Upon reading Sasha Weiss’ compelling, nearly 9,000-word piece on the “cursed” Prince documentary for The New York Times Magazine, a single sentence resonated with me the most.
“At moments he disliked him intensely, only to find himself moved by Prince’s humanity.”
This sentiment about Prince was relayed to Weiss by Ezra Edelman, director of the unreleased, nine-hour Netflix film currently blocked by Prince’s estate.
As someone who has been working on a book on Prince for over ten years, I am accustomed to living with his many contradictions, character flaws and traumas. I’ve spent a large portion of my life learning some details about Prince that made me upset, and other information that moved me in a profound and positive way. I’ve been doing the necessary unpacking of this in my manuscript, at Prince conferences and symposia, and within the fan community. I have never been interested in picking apart his shortcomings in detail on social media or on this blog, which I’ve been managing for 14 years. I felt that my book would do the talking for me by placing his choices in context, and not reducing his life to a salacious headline or two.
But as my book continues to be delayed and more information becomes available to mainstream audiences, I suppose now is a good time to communicate a few things: Despite interviewing about 50 people who knew and worked with Prince, I was not aware of some of the information in the documentary. I don’t defend any of Prince’s terrible behavior. Though I am writing a book solely focused on Prince’s spiritual journey, I don’t view him as a guru; I think his spiritual development and use of religious imagery in his music are fascinating, and I hope that people who read my book will be inspired to think more deeply about their own individual spiritual journeys, whatever they may be. Prince once described his music as inspirational, and I still believe that to be true. And it is also aspirational. Prince realized that he did not always live up to certain standards, but it was important for him to communicate them in his music anyway to encourage himself and others. He is not someone who suddenly found religion later in life, but considered – and sometimes struggled – with his belief system and his flaws through his art for nearly 40 years. I spend a lot of time engaging that work for research purposes, but it also brings me joy on a personal level.
According to The New York Times Magazine, Prince’s Estate is concerned about some of the content in the documentary. Titled “The Book of Prince,” the film includes an allegation that Prince repeatedly punched his ex-girlfriend and protégé Jill Jones after she slapped him in the mid-1980s. This is new information. She didn’t reveal this during my interview with her in 2013, but I have no reason to doubt her story, and it’s awful that it happened. I have been talking to people who knew Prince since before he died. It is only in the last few years that his employees, friends, family and exes have felt comfortable opening up and sharing more details about him. As a writer and researcher, it has been frustrating to piece it all together. I actually find comfort knowing that someone as famous as Edelman has also struggled to get sources to talk. A producer on the film even reached out to me inquiring about Prince’s spiritual journey and how I was able to land an interview with Larry Graham, Prince’s musical hero and spiritual advisor.
The documentary also probes his marriage to Mayte Garcia. They met when she was 16 and he was 32 (The New York Times Magazine incorrectly states his age as 35, but that doesn’t make much of a difference). They slept together when she was 19 and married when she was 22. This has been common knowledge among Prince fans, and their relationship was detailed in Garcia’s excellent memoir, “The Beautiful Experience,” in 2017. At times, it is a disturbing read, and I shared my reaction on this blog years ago. I do not think this was an appropriate relationship. I have a niece who is 18 and I would not have been ok with a man over 30 calling her and writing her letters two years earlier, or now, even as a friend. I don’t think we should shy away from discussing this choice by Prince and other men inside and outside of the music industry at this time. I think it’s also important to acknowledge that Garcia and some other women who were involved with Prince do not view themselves as victims. Whatever agency that may have been at play in their lives should be considered. But that does not excuse the abuse of power and controlling behavior on Prince’s part. (I encourage folks to listen to Prince researcher Darling Nisi’s 2019 “Muse 2 the Pharaoh” episode tackling some of these issues. Black women are always doing work before it becomes popular.)
So, what do we do with this information? It all comes down to individual decisions. I can’t tell you how you should engage Prince’s art. I’m going to continue to write about it, while also understanding that a lot of us are re-evaluating our relationships with celebrities, past and present. I’m probably not even done processing my feelings about Michael Jackson. In fact, I recently re-read Scott Woods’ “Leaving Neverland Behind” essay and listened to Leon Neyfakh and Jay Smooth’s podcast, “Think Twice: Michael Jackson,” and both were helpful to me in some ways. Lately, for completely different reasons, I’ve also been reconsidering how I view Kendrick Lamar, whose art has also been important to me. I think we should all be mindful of what we are projecting on these public figures who, at the end of the day, are flawed human beings. But we live in a society that demands black-and-white answers without creating space for nuance. I’m not interested in adhering to those terms. That is why I also found Darling Nisi’s statement on X to be so helpful:
People that you admire can do horrible things. The people who you admire also did amazing things. You do not have to take on their troubles or the bad things that they did. You can focus on the things that they did that were aspirational and what they wanted to be.
Please do not diminish yourself in connection to the people you admire.
Please do not completely attach yourself to the people you admire either.
At the same time, I do agree that Prince researchers, scholars and writers should express their thoughts on this subject in some way. Scott Woods, who also wrote a book on Prince, made a constructive post about this on X:
So we must – well, we should want to – dig a little here. Or not. … But if you’re out here playing the legacy game, I think you should have to contend with that out loud if you want others to engage what you have to offer on the man/music. … I’m the one who has to decide if I want to keep engaging whatever you have to half-say. Personally, I embrace this interrogation the way Prince has forced me to interrogate things all of my life.
When it comes to the Prince documentary, it’s hard for me to judge what I haven’t seen. Based on what we know from The New York Times Magazine article, it may not be the documentary I wanted. I was hoping for something similar to the “Quincy” documentary on Netflix. I would like to see a film that focuses on Prince’s groundbreaking achievements: shaping the sound of popular music, advocating for artists’ rights, innovating as an early adapter of online music distribution, upending gender norms, etc. If the documentary does see the light of day, perhaps it will prove me wrong. If nothing else, I would like to see the content of the Jill Jones interview; I don’t think negative information about Prince should be suppressed.
When it comes to my book, I would like to finish it in 2025. I’m about 80% done, and it’s already more than 500 pages. My goal is to cut the entire book down to around 450 pages. Again, I felt better about my struggle to complete it after I read how Edelman, with all of his resources, took years to pull his project together and stood firm on its length. Even the narrow focus on Prince’s spirituality requires breadth, given that he went through many transformations and produced more than 40 albums unpacking his beliefs. I am still looking for a publisher who believes that enough people care to read a long book about this aspect of Prince’s life and work.
I do want to make a request: For people who knew Prince and who have been unsure about speaking to me, please reconsider. It’s important to present a well-rounded picture of Prince, and that includes his spiritual life. This applies to both people who have been interviewed for the documentary and those who haven’t, especially Black people who have often been excluded from Prince’s story. I have been fortunate to talk to as many people as I have, but there are still a few key folks I’d like to interview.
For those who are not familiar with my book, I highlight the complex relationship between sexuality and spirituality throughout Prince’s life and music through a story in six parts. My work ultimately demonstrates that Prince never wavered from his belief in God, nor his mission to make others aware of God’s existence, even as he struggled with inner demons — right up to his death. And for those who are not familiar with my career, I am an award-winning journalist who currently works for the Chicago Sun-Times. I have a master’s degree in journalism from the Ohio University Scripps School of Journalism, where I wrote my thesis on Prince and spirituality. I have presented my research on Prince at several universities across the country and abroad. My essay on Prince’s 1990 “Graffiti Bridge” album and movie has been published in the “Theology and Prince” collection (Lexington Books, 2019).
Each fan’s relationship with Prince is highly personal and unique. At the same time, we must remember that Prince is bigger than what he means to us individually. His life and music are up for grabs for the world to critique; in some ways, he doesn’t even have command over his own narrative. As controlling as he was, he seemed to surrender at times. Just think about his own comments about his vault: “Somebody will do somethin' with it,” he reportedly told his band member, Shelby J. Ultimately, he continuously sought to submit his will to God. Yes, someone as self-assured – and sometimes arrogant – as Prince often expressed a desire to follow something bigger than him. You can debate whether he was successful, but this was a real issue that he grappled with throughout his life and career. In fact, when I think about the lyrics that best encapsulate Prince’s journey, a line from his 1997 song “Don’t Play Me” always comes to mind. For me, it’s important to sit with this aspiration along with the imperfection.
“The only fame is the light that comes from God and the joy you get to say His name.”
